The Golden Dream Darkened
by E.J. O'Hera
Summary: Will and Lyra are reunited and go on another adventure together.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey all. So I'm being really ambitious with this at the moment and it may turn out to be complete rubbish, but I'm hoping on sending Lyra and Will on another adventure. Let me know if y'all like it/ if I should continue this one. Thanks!**

Lyra was up in the wee hours of the morning again studying the alethometer as she frequently did. It had been beyond frustrating, certainly, when she had first began re-learning the instrument, and she still did miss the ease with which she had gleaned information from the golden compass as a child; however, with ten years of practice she had gotten quite skilled with the device. Of the handful of people in the world who studied the craft, she was the youngest and most skilled. She still needed the books. About every third symbol she had to look up and test different possibilities with, but the task was much less laborious than it had been when she first returned to her world a decade before.

"I'm tired," Pan complained yet again as he rolled on Lyra's lap to attempt to get more comfortable. "Shut out the light so that I can actually get to sleep."

Lyra rolled her eyes at the pine marten but fought a yawn herself. Scooping him up, she shut off her work lamp, wrapped the alethometer into its silk cloth and slipped it under her pillow. She collapsed once again into bed, hoping tonight she would not dream of him. It always hurt to wake up when she did.

Lyra and Pan could hear the boisterous music and laughter from down the river long before they reached the floating city of the gypsies who had made camp once again. They always loved when there less than lawful friends came in to the area. As much as Lyra had progressed with her studies, she still much preferred the company of this rough and tumble lot to that of the other young men and women of Jordan College. She was much respected amongst her peers, but she still did not fit in. In fact, their respect for her might have gone further to making her stand out. Some thought she exaggerated her stories, and others were frightened of her because of them.

As she approached the floating city of boats all tied together and lit up with torches, she immediately felt the sense of camaraderie that always accompanied her time with the Gyptians. She missed that more than anything when they were away. In Jordan, she just felt alone. If not for Pan, Lyra would probably started talking to herself a long time ago.

A shrilling, twirling whistle sang out from up in the rigging of one of the larger boats as a silhouetted form stuck its head out.

"Well if it isn't Miss Lyra Silvertounge come down to grace us lower beings with her presence," called a young man's voice.

"Come off it Joss!" Lyra cried up toward him. "Is it too much to ask for a friendly greeting after a lengthy separation?"

Laughing, the agile form swung his way down from above and landed in a graceful hop on the deck of the boat. Lyra ran to meet him and was engulfed immediately by a dozen of her friends as they all began speaking at once: about their adventures, asking about Lyra's life, telling of the gossip. It was all very loud and animated, and rowdy just like time with the gypsies always was, and she was glad of it. All she needed to do right now was dance, drink, and loose herself in the night because tomorrow was the worst day of the year. Tomorrow she would have to make the pilgrimage to the bench that she did every year. Tomorrow her heart would be ripped yet again at the reminder of what she had loved and lost. Tomorrow would kill her, but tonight she did not want to think about any of that.

She woke up with the sun as the boat rocked her steadily back and forth, and she woke up crying. Shrugging off the knit blanket someone had tossed over her, she crept silently back across the boats until she finally jumped on shore. She held Pan close as they silently made their way back to their room.

Everything was hard today. Her shower took twice as long and her lightweight cotton dress literally felt as if they pushed down on her as she tugged it on. Slowly, methodically, she went through the motions of the morning, but the steady flow of silent tears did not end. Every now and then, Pan would let out a mew of distress as he clawed the foot of her desk in distress. It hurt. It all hurt.

They moved like zombies through the streets as they made their way to the park. The beautiful day seemed to mock them as the storm of anger and sorrow raged inside of them. It was when they finally reached the bench that it all broke through. Lyra sank onto the seat and her tears were silent no more.

While her face was buried in her hands, something was happening just in front of her. Across the path, obscured by some bushes, a strange shimmering was in the air. At first, it was as if the air was rippling, but then the space itself began to open. This window that formed was almost imperceptible. It was down low, hidden by shrubbery, and on the other side was a park nearly identical to this one. Unless you absolutely knew it were there and looked closely for it, you would miss it entirely.

Out of this window stepped a man. An intelligent looking cat followed him. The man stood up straight and his gaze locked instantly on the beautiful, crying woman on the bench. He was quite tall, standing perhaps six feet three inches and was powerfully built. He had a mess of dusty blonde hair on top of his head and a small growth of stubble on his chin. His straight, dark brows hooded a set of extremely intense eyes. Though he was a young man, it was clear he had seen much of life. He was certainly handsome, but there was something rugged about him, though he was dressed cleanly in jeans and a light blue oxford. The pinky and ring finger on his left hand were missing. He had a strong jaw, which he flexed and relaxed several times as if some overwhelming force of emotion gripped him and he was attempting to swallow it down. Staring at Lyra, his expression was quite indescribable. He looked completely overwhelmed and intense, but by what it was hard to tell.

He took one purposeful step forward but the hesitated. Lyra was still crying, and Pan was still nuzzled into her lap. Neither of them was even aware of the strange goings on before them. The cat pressed herself against the man's legs as if she too were seeking reassurance. The man opened his mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out. Finally, he took a deep breath to steady himself and tried again.

"Lyra?" his voice was so soft, so hopeful, so cautious. He seemed as if he feared speaking the name out. Maybe he was just scared to hope.

Lyra's head snapped up as she finally noticed the man standing in front of her. She jumped quickly from her seat to regard him with cautious eyes.

"How do you know my name?" she asked skeptically. For all of her weakness on this day, she was still always on the defense. With a childhood like hers, trust was not an immediate instinct for her.

The man did not speak; he just looked at her with those piercing eyes. The emotion on his face grew, if possible, even more intense and tears began to form in his eyes. Who was this man? He knew her name, and now he just stared at her and cried? What did that mean? Pan jumped up on Lyra's shoulder as she took a step backwards. The man shook his head at her retreat and a panicked sound escaped his lips. There was something familiar about him. She studied his handsome face carefully, for though he was frightening her with his strange behavior, she felt as if she should not run from him.

Then she saw it, in the eyes. She knew who he reminded her of, but it could not be true. She had spent the last ten years of her life beating down any sliver of hope because she knew if she allowed the thought of this possibility in then it would crush her, yet they were his eyes. In the face of a boy or a man, they were his eyes. Her brow smoothed from a frown to surprise. She dropped her eyes to his left hand which had two fingers missing.

"Will," she breathed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Will's POV**

"Will?"

Hearing his name spoken by his Lyra again was too much to handle and all he could do was let all of his joy burst out of his giant grin and streaming tears. She was not exactly _his _Lyra anymore. She had grown from the fearsome, brave child he loved into an equally fearsome and brave woman, but now she also had a beauty that took his breath away from him. Her dark blonde hair curled gently around her tear-stained face and her bright, pale eyes shone as she gaped at him in disbelief. She was still very small, even now as an adult. She stood maybe five feet and three inches, but it was clear she was still very much the girl she had been. Her thin, tanned shoulders were small but well muscled. Though she word a light cotton dress the color of her eyes, she had paired it off with thick, clomping boots. If he were not so overwhelmed, he might have laughed at how much of the girl he knew still shone through. The child's love he had for the strong, noble girl of his childhood instantly grew. She was a girl no longer, but still encompassed all that she had been. She was more than he could have ever imagined, and he was standing before her. He could take two steps and touch her. For ten years, dreams of this woman had haunted him. He got lost in memories of the times they had spent together, drowned in fantasies of what they could have had together.

When he had first returned to Oxford, there had been so much waiting for him to deal with, but Will barley remembered that time. He knew things had been taken care of: his mother, the body in his house, his mysterious disappearance. It had all seemed so insurmountable, but when he had to walk away from Lyra for the last time, he couldn't seem to make himself care about anything else. Mary must have been the one who helped him. She got his mother a live-in nurse and had taken guardianship of Will. How she managed the legal issues, he had no idea. He had moved through life in a daze for a long time until he was only a month away from visiting the bench. For some reason, that snapped him out of it. He knew Lyra would not be able to see him or what he was doing, but he felt that when he went to "visit" her, he had better be more pulled together. He wanted her to be proud of him, so he started caring again.

He worked hard in school, he worked hard with his mother and Mary, and he began training with a real Mr. Miyagi type that lived in the flat below. A few years ago, he had even begun working as Mary's research assistant while still taking classes at medical school as his childhood time wielding the subtle knife endowed him with the grace to diagnose patients with a seemingly preternatural ability. It was only a couple of months ago that Mary had come into the office while he was recording some of her work from the day before.

She had looked shaky and pale, and Will immediately rushed over to help her into a chair.

"What is it Mary? Are you alright?" He filled a glass with water and brought it to her. She accepted it gratefully and looked up at him with an expression that was impossible to read.

"I think I have done something, Will," the doctor said as she gazed up at the man who she had taken care of and who had taken care of her since their return to their world a little over nine years ago.

"A bad something or a good something? Mary, you're frightening me."

"The knife. Will I think I made another knife."

And thus the two of them had been catapulted on another adventure of scientific discovery. For the months following, Mary did not sleep much and Will even less. Mary, of course, had been researching Shadows and their properties ever since their return, but she did not imagine ever accomplishing something of this magnitude in her lifetime. A few months before her breakthrough, the physicist had been visited by a creature she was certain she would never encounter again outside of her own dreams. The angel Xaphania came to her. If Mary attempted to relate the exact conversation, she would have failed. Her memory was muddled and blurred somehow, as if she was looking at it through someone else's mind. All she knew, was that it was imperative that Will and Lyra be reunited. They still had a destiny, and the safety and balance of the universes were again in peril if they did not change things. And so, Xaphania began aiding Mary in the creation of a second knife that would cut between the worlds. Mary did not tell Will what she was doing, that is until her task was complete.

After she spoke those seven words, Will threw himself with fanatical dedication into experimenting to make sure that he and Mary could work the instrument with as little repercussions as possible. When they had finally determined that it was as safe as it would be to use, they also agreed that they could just cut the one window between Lyra's and Will's Oxford unless Xaphania visited them again with anything more than ambiguous riddles. At that point, it was exactly eight days from Midsummer's Day.

And so he found himself counting down the seconds. _One week. Only 604800 seconds to go. _He found himself practicing what he would say in the mirror, writing draft after draft of his love confession. _Three days now, only 259200 seconds. _He bounced in between revealing how desperately he still loved Lyra, telling her that though he had dated other girls, none had ever meant a fraction of what she had meant to him. He wanted to tell her that the thought of her is what brought him through. He wanted to tell her that he felt more like he was missing a part of himself when he had to walk away from her as when his fingers had been sliced off. Then on the other hand he worried about scaring her off. He hadn't seen her for so long. How did he know she even still went to the bench? He had no clue where her life had taken her, or what she was like now. How could he honestly profess his love to a woman who he did not even really know. _One day now, only 864000 seconds to go. _

And now he was here, standing before Lyra Silvertounge, and he was more certain than ever that he was just as much in love with her as he had ever been as a child.

"Will is that really you?" Her voice was barley above a whisper. She seemed to be teetering on the edge of terrified and overjoyed. Will tried to bring forth any of his carefully practiced speech, but it was gone. He could not seem to recall any words what so ever. He just nodded in response. Lyra took one, two steps and reached up to touch his face. His eyes stayed locked on her beautiful face as be brought unsteady hands cautiously up to brush against her shoulder, run softly against her dusty blonde curls, just barley allowing himself to touch her. His skin hovered just above hers so that he could feel the heat off her and the electricity between them, but he was almost afraid that she would disappear under his fingertips if he actually grabbed her. Her slim fingers ghosted across his straight brows, rounded lips, the stubble along his jaw.

"How?" Again, her voice stayed in a range that was barley audible.

"I-um," he cleared his voice, trying to get the words around the lump in his throat. He gave up trying to explain anything and just closed his eyes sighing, "Lyra."

At that he wrapped his arms around her waist and puller her flush against him. Her arms went around his shoulders as she rose up on her tiptoes to bring herself closer against him. They were together, and they were whole again.

**This was a hard chapter to write because I don't think I was able to get the extreme emotion across all that well. Idk. I think it came out alright, but let me know what y'all think. Thanx!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Ok all. I know it has been ages since I have updated any of this, but I had a brain injury, so I was not great at writing for a long time. I still do not think I'm wonderful, but some of my old self has returned. Let me know what y'all think. Thanks. **

She could not believe in his presence, so just let her insanity take her away as she wrapped her arms fierily around him and just cried and laughed. She did not even want to imagine how he could possibly be here because he was. She grasped onto him so tightly, pulled away to look at him, and grabbed him again. She was just so overjoyed at her insanity.

After nearly thirty minutes of this ecstasy, they were able to pull away from each other, but not let go. His arms were still firmly around her, and she was gripping him just as tightly.

"So how did this work exactly?" she asked him.

"A lot of research. Mary, um well, she was visited," he said dropping his eyes.

"By whom?" she asked.

"Xaphania," he said with a down cast look. At this she was obviously surprised, and took a step back to make better eye contact with him. He did not want to let go of her, so he took the step with her.

"Xaphania came to her and told her how to make a new knife. Well, not exactly, but he let her know in her mind how to do it a bit. She worked on it a long time before I even knew about it, then she told me and I flipped. I couldn't believe this was happening, and I completely dedicated myself to it. We were done a few days ago, but I wanted to wait. I knew there was a chance you would be here, and here you are."

Again they gripped each other tightly.

"Of course I'm here. I come every year," she said into his shoulder. She was so overjoyed, but also a bit worried about whatever Xaphania had in mind.

After a while of sweet-talking and holding each other and stuff, she began to lead him to her Oxford. As they walked, she told him everything they passed. Apparently, he had quite a few things from her world in his. Their arms were still wrapped around each other. They were almost afraid that if they let go of each other then the other would disappear.

"Oh come this way," she declared, suddenly veering off of the path they had been taking.

"What is over here?" he asked with a laugh.

"The gypsies are here now. You should meet them!" she said excitedly walking quickly.

When they neared the water, she gestured to the ton of boats there. He noticed tons of men on the bank, and they all called to Lyra when she yelled out to them. She pulled him along, and he did not know what was happening but fallowed her willingly where ever she took him.

"Is it not Midsummer's Day?" Joss said with a twist of his head.

"Why yes it is. I realize that I told you years ago when you asked me if I shall ever attend your Midsummer's Day festival at night that I could not for personal reasons. This here," she said hugging Will tightly, "was my reason. It seems now he has returned to me, so I can attend your festival no problem."

She turned to him with a giant grin on her face and hugged him even closer. He was so glad that she had kept up the tradition and kept his memory alive, because otherwise he would have felt foolish.

The boys all made excited noise and rushed over to them. Dozens gave him hugs and introduced themselves at once, so he had no hope of remembering anyone's name. They were quite enthusiastic and, unfortunately, the joyous men momentarily separated Lyra and Will. Luckily, both were still present. After a while of Lyra attempting to calm them down she just grabbed his arm and ran away.

"We shall see you insane men tonight!" she called over her shoulder.

Will was laughing like crazy, but eventually they slowed when out of the view of the men. She loved the sound of his laughter. She just loved all things about him. She could not help an overly joyous smile cross her face looking up at him as they returned to her room.

"So what is your job here? You a teacher or something?" he asked as he noticed the university in front of him.

"Actually, I pretty much do what I did when I knew you. I read the aletheometer for anyone with a question," she said with a bit of pride.

"You can still read that? I thought you had lost your ability?"

"Not as well as when I was a child, but I have been training myself for years. I read it better than anyone in my world," she said proudly. She could not help her conceited sounding voice. It was quite an accomplishment.

"Impressive," he said. He was very glad that she was still interested in the stuff she did when he knew her, for that is what he stuck with. Of course, he worked on things not related to their childhood at all, but he mostly focused on specific things.

They entered one of the buildings, and Lyra was excited about showing him her room. It was not impressive looking, of course, but him being in it was an extraordinary idea. They got right outside her door, and she was unable to stifle her laughter. He cocked his head, but she brushed it off. She opened the door and they entered. It was small, but quite furnished. It had a desk with papers all over it, a sofa and coffee table, her bed, her dresser, and it was all pretty crowded. He was glad though. He knew they had to stay close in this room, and that was exactly what he wanted.

"So this is my home," she said with a grand gesture outward. She smiled, looking at him as if waiting for his analysis.

"Hmm," he said jokingly. He moved steadily around the room. He put his hands on things, looked at her cluttered desk, sad on her couch, and finally nodded his head. He smiled at his own joke after turning back to her and seeing the worrisome look on her face.

"Your home is just fine, Lyra. I'm just overjoyed to be around you again," he said linking their hands.

She laughed and brought him to sit with her on her couch. They initially were sitting close to each other holding hands, but it was not close enough for him. He lifted her, so she sat in his lap.

"Okay, so what are we suppose to expect from Xaphania? Do we just wait until he decides to speak to us?" she asked.

"I don't know. I'm not sure of anything that is supposed to happen now. My goal was to enter your world, and now we are together again. That is all I have been focusing on," he admitted caressing her.

"So do we just wait for him to come to us? What if he does not come for years?" she said worriedly.

"Then I guess I shall be here for years," he said laughing.

"But you cannot remain in my world for an extreme amount of time without getting old and dying!"

"I'm just guessing here, but I believe he would not send me here and then let me die," he said flicking her nose. "I believe he will come to us in a couple of days with whatever his plan is. If he fails, I'll just stay here a while and then you can go through the same hole into my world with me. We will make this work," he said assuredly. She looked panicked at the beginning, but by the time he spewed all of this she seemed more calm. Not completely, but closer to it.

"I suppose we might be able to do that. I just wish Xaphania had entered with you, so I could know what to expect. Do you think it shall be dangerous? Frightening? Deadly?" she asked attempting to keep the excitement out of her voice.

She did not accomplish this. He heard her eagerness, and it made him laugh. So much of the child he knew and loved was still in this girl. He was so drawn to her eagerness that he found himself dying to kiss her, but he was unsure if she would welcome it. She had wrapped herself around him, held his hand, hugged him, but he was not positive rather or not she would be willing to reenter the land they had left behind as children.

To test, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. It was not a quick peck. He lingered for a moment, and he felt her lean her face into him. Well then, he supposed that she was eager to bring their childhood relationship to the present. God knows he was too.

His hands rose up to cup her face, and he made intense eye contact with her. She looked back just as eagerly as he felt, and he knew she was inviting him. His sight dropped to her lips, which were beautiful and rosey. He leaned forward, slowly, savoring the moment. At last, his eyes closed and he leaned into her lips. Dear Lord, this had to be the most amazing experience he had ever had in his life. Wielding the knife, saving the world and things like that were also wonderful, but this was indescribably the most precious moment of his life. His hands moved from her face up into her hair, and she shifted so she was facing him better. As soon as his tongue started pressing on her lips though, she leaned back breaking their kiss. She smiled at him radiantly, unbelieving that this was now happening. How could the two of them be reunited after all of these years? She was so pleased that she leaned forward to kiss him again. It felt heavenly.

She was leading him along and he was fallowing her excitedly. He could not believe that they were together again. She would introduce him to all of the gypsies, yes, but even better she would introduce him as her boyfriend! Actually, he did not think they used that term here. Her significant other? Her darling? He was not sure, but he was glad to be in whatever position she had placed him. It had killed him that all they had done this afternoon was simple kisses without tongues, but he needed to explain the whole making out thing to her. In his world, he would have to say, they were much more physically compassionate.

"And here we are," she said gesturing to all the well-lit, noisy, happy boats floating nearby.

Clearly, these gypsies knew how to get crazy because it was so loud he almost could here her and she had yelled it at him. He fallowed her to the bank and then she jumped onto the nearest boat. Their hands momentarily disconnected because he did not know she was planning on doing that.

"Come on," she told him drastically motioning onto the boat. He shrugged and jumped to join her.

As they jumped from boat to boat, Lyra was greeted by nearly everyone. It seemed she knew all the gypsies, and they were all overjoyed to see her. At last, they had reached a boat where Lyra was pulled into hugs by dozens of boys and girls. Some of them also hugged Will, which he found quite strange. He hugged them back because he did not want to turn away from these obviously open people. He was handed ale, and seeing that Lyra already had someone pouring some into her mouth shrugged and took a drink. It was insane here, but he was having so much fun because he was with Lyra in her world. Several times, a random girl would declare her love of a certain song leaning on Will to get him to ask her to dance. Lyra was dancing with many of the men, so he realized that it was just fine. His and Lyra's dances though, those were the special moment. When the sun started rising a little, he was wasted and Lyra seemed pretty far gone herself. Joining the others, he just lay down on the boat and put his arms around Lyra. He was overjoyed that he was able to hold her while they slept, and he prayed that she was still there in the morning.


End file.
